


Third Time's The Charm

by charrotto



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Epic, Mystery, Not for Harry/Ginny shippers, Original Character(s), Post-Canon, Random Redeeming Arcs, Resurrection, big cast
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-18
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-06-12 13:55:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15341298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charrotto/pseuds/charrotto
Summary: Set immediately after the events of The Cursed Child (irrelevant to plot), Harry is sent on a mission that will take him around the world to stop, again, Lord Voldemort. Because some people don't know how to stay dead.





	Third Time's The Charm

It wasn’t a rare occurrence for the Head Auror to visit the Minister of Magic, not since Hermione Granger had taken the position anyway, and so, no one thought anything of it when Harry was called into her office, including Harry himself.

Hermione looked up from her papers as soon as he stepped in. She looked excited.

“Harry.” she said, as a manner of greeting “How are you today?”

It was a platitude, but Harry did have something he wanted to talk about, so he cut straight to the chase.

“I can’t look at my wife.”

She blinked, surprised, and finally said, very carefully: “And why is that?”

“I married my mother.”

“Oh, Harry!”

She looked sad, sorry, slightly guilty, and not in the least surprised.

“You knew!”

Hermione sighed. “I always thought Freud would have had a field day with you.”

“Who’s Freud?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Whatever” he said, quite miffed. He suddenly decided whatever Hermione was excited about would be a much more pleasant conversation, and abruptly changed the subject “So. What did you call me for?”

Predictably, Hermione perked up.

“Harry,” she said, looking very much like a child on Christmas morning “What do you know about Mediterranea?”

Well. That was unexpected.

“It’s a sea?” he tried.

Hermione looked taken aback, as she was bound to whenever he said something stupid.

“What did you learn at Hogwarts, exactly?”

“ _Expelliarmus_ and _Expecto Patronum_ , both extra-curricular, but you know that.”

It wasn’t the first time they exchanged these words, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. Somehow, they seemed to make Hermione feel better about his general lack of knowledge.

“It’s a country.”

Harry was pretty sure it wasn’t, and so he said: “No, it’s not.”

“OH, HARRY.” She said, and eloquently dropped her head on the table.

“What?” he asked. He’d known Hermione for most of his life, and was way past caring when she knew something he didn’t, but he could feel this was a big one. “What do I not know?”

Hermione didn’t lift her head from the table, she just pointed her wand behind her and scrolled down a world map.

“That’s the world?” he attempted.

Hermione pointed again, and the words ‘Muggle World’ flashed in blue lettering.

“Okay… Muggle World, then.”

Hermione did lift her head then, throwing him a suspicious look, and unscrolled a second map.

Harry took air before looking at it closely. It was a world map, depicting the countries as they must have been at some point in the past.

“Err…” he tried “The world in 1850?”

Hermione leaned back in her chair, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. Still not speaking, she pointed her wand again, and the words ‘Wizarding World’ flashed in blue lettering.

Harry was starting to get tired of his friend’s antics, and snapped “So? It’s the Wizarding World in the XIXth century, what about it?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Harry!” she said, standing up “That’s the Wizarding World. TODAY.”

“No, it’s not!” he countered.

“Yes, it is!” she said, exasperated.

“Listen, Hermione” he said, trying to calm down “I may be shit at History and Geography, but I do know my Quidditch. That’s not the Wizarding World. That is.” He said, pointing at the map labelled ‘Muggle World’.

Hermione sat down again, and pinched the bridge of her nose, thinking.

Harry, for his part, was having a hard time making sense of the conversation. He knew it had to be a prank, but couldn’t imagine Hermione pulling one on him, least of all in her office.

“International Decree For Muggleborn Integration, 1801!” she exclaimed suddenly “It’s about Quidditch! You _must_ have heard about this one!”

She looked a bit crazed, so Harry made an effort to remember what the decree was about. It was there, somewhere in his head… He thought the French Revolution had happened in the muggle world around that time (maybe). Then the American Indepedence. Or maybe the American first, then the French? Well, whatever. The Americans, the French, then Napoleon, then Waterloo, then Abba.

He was getting side-tracked, and Hermione was growing impatient.

He tried his best to remember what in Merlin’s name had the French Revolution got to do with Quidditch and was about to forfeit when his eye caught on the muggle map behind Hermione. Then it dawned on him.

“International Decree For Muggleborn Integration, 1801!” he exclaimed, mightily proud of himself “Participants in the World Cup will represent muggle countries rather than magical ones!”

“That’s the one!” she said. She looked proud of him too. In Harry’s opinion, she was right to be so.

“It’s from when Napoleon conquered Egypt, and stuff” he continued, feeling on a roll “They had France compete with all their new territory while they figured out how to split and merge the wizarding ministries to be like the muggle ones!”

“Damn it!” Hermione slapped the table and pinched her index and thumb as she said “You were _so_ close!”

“What? What did I say?”

“They didn’t split and merge the ministries, Harry. Why would they do that?”

That made Harry pause. It was true, it made no sense for Wizarding Countries to change because of muggle wars they didn’t even take part of. Well, not immediately, anyway. They would eventually have to change to adapt to the muggle world, right?

He voiced that question to Hermione, who just repeated “why?”.

Harry struggled.

“Because… The world has changed, so you have to adapt?”

“The thing is, Harry, the world did not change. Muggle frontiers did. It’s not the same.”

“So, what you’re trying to say is the Wizarding World kept the borders from 1801?”

“No, Harry.” And when she said it, she sounded appropriately grave “What I’m trying to say is that the Wizarding World has had its own territorial wars, which shaped its own borders, which are, more often than not, completely different from the Muggle World”

“Wait.” Said Harry, looking at the Map. He took a step forward and pointed where Bulgaria should be. “Where’s Bulgaria? We met the Bulgarian First Minister at the World Cup, remember?”

“First off” said Hermione, closing her eyes “That’s not Bulgaria, that’s Poland”

Harry moved his finger to the right.

“Ukraine”

He moved it again.

“That’s Russia, Harry! How can you not know where Russia is?”

Harry actually did know where Russia is, and appropriately apologized for his lapsus, looking as sheepish as he felt. Then he pointed at the US, China, Australia and Mexico, just to show that he did know where some countries are.

Hermione just rolled her eyes at his antics, went to stand next to the Wizarding World map, and pointed at Transylvania.

“Bulgaria is here. In the Wizarding World, it’s part of Transylvania. Mr. Oblansk in charge of The Court’s Foreign Relationships, and acts as Minister for Bulgaria, Romania, Slovakia, Serbia and Hungary in Quidditch World Cups.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“What doesn’t?”

“How can he be Minister for six countries?”

“Five”

“Same thing.” That got him a magnificent roll of Hermione’s eyes “And what’s The Court, anyway? What are they, a kingdom?”

“Harry.”

“What?”

“You do realize most muggles would be able to answer that question, don’t you?”

“No, I don’t, why?”

“Transylvania is a county. Surely, you’ve heard of Count Dracula?”

“Yeah…”

“You do know he’s real, right?”

“… Yes?”

“Oh, Harry.”

Harry sat down, feeling defeated.

“Please tell me this is a prank.” He told her, with pleading eyes.

Hermione sighed. “I’m afraid it’s not. Dammit, Harry, you’re Head Auror, you’re supposed to know these things!”

Harry looked at the map in a panic. She was right. Aurors weren’t only the wizarding police, they were also their military. As such, Harry was in charge of both internal and foreign security, something he now realized he’d been doing a terrible job of, what with him not even knowing what the other countries looked like, and all that.

“No wonder Ireland’s crime rate has grown so much in the last years…” she mused.

“Huh?”

“Ireland, Harry!” she exploded “Ireland is part of the British Islands! You’re in charge of Ireland’s Aurors!”

Well. Shit.

“Oh, Harry!”

He hadn’t gotten so many ‘oh-Harrys’ since they’d left Hogwarts.

He’d never felt he deserved them more than he did now either.

“Should I resign?”

“Tsk” she said “Don’t be dramatic. Actually, now that I know why you’ve been ignoring Ireland, I think you’ve been doing a pretty good job. Just…” she waved her hand, as if looking for an appropriate way to voice her thoughts, then gave up and settled for “Don’t ignore Ireland anymore”

“I won’t” he vowed.

“And get yourself an atlas”

“I will.”

She paused, closed her eyes, sighed, took a deep breath, and finally said “Well. Let’s get back to why I called you here, shall we?”

“Okay” said Harry, sitting straight and ready to learn “The Mediterranean Sea”

“Mediterranea” corrected Hermione, going into full teaching mode “is one of the oldest countries in the world. Its territory includes most of the Mediterranean Sea and cities under it… I mean that literally, under-sea cities”

“Like Atlantis?” pipped in Harry.

“Including Atlantida, yes.” She confirmed “It also includes all Mediterranean islands, all of Greece, Macedonia, and a small part of southern Bulgaria, Turkey’s western coast, from Canakkale to Marmaris, then the land from Suez and Port Said in Egypt to Tubruq in Lybia, and currently the Nile line, down to Abu Simbel…”

“Currently?”

“The Nile line has been in dispute between Mediterranea and the Arabian Empire for centuries, Harry” she sternly said “Mediterranea includes the coastline from Barcelona in Spain to Toulon in France, and finally, the south of Italy, up to Rome. Mediterranea’s main cities are the five capitals: Rome, the political centre, Delphos, home of the Pythias, Alexandria, the centre of knowledge, and Atlantida, the largest city and economical centre of Mediterranea. The fifth capital was moved from Massilia to Barcelona in the XVIIth century, following an accident involving a sacred statue of some kind. It is today home of the RiD, the Ministry of Research and Development of Mediterranea.”

That, apparently, was _really_ exciting to Hermione, so much that she didn’t notice Harry didn’t know what she was talking about. He assumed they were like a magical NASA and zoned out while his friend got distracted talking about theorems, genetics, particles and house elves.

It made sense to her.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?”

“Of course I am!” he answered, not missing a beat “Ancient Greece, Ancient Egypt, Ancient Rome, Magical NASA. Atlantis is real, and so is Count Dracula.”

“That’s…” she looked slightly unsure, but seemed to decide that would be as much as she’d be able to get through to him, and decided to leave it at that “Well.” She continued “As you can imagine, Mediterranea’s progressist laws mean that they haven’t had the best relationship with the British Islands so far.”

Harry had missed the part about the progressist laws, but nodded anyway.

 “I’ve been wanting to change that since I came into the Office, of course.”

Harry nodded again, because: _of course_ she would, but Hermione paid no notice. Instead, she stood up and started pacing and ranting about the many times she had tried to establish a relationship with them, only to be turned down because, apparently, the ‘pitys’, whoever that was, thought it wasn’t the right time (she didn’t seem to like the ‘pitys’ very much).

“ANYWAY!” she pretty much shouted, getting his attention back “As soon as we came back from the past, they issued another decree, and that’s not creepy at all. You are to go to Barcelona and report to the RiD.”

“Okay.”

“Really?” she seemed surprised.

“Shouldn’t I want to go?”

“Well, I expected a bit of a… Ooooh!”

Hermione actually laughed when she caught onto why he was so willing to leave the country.

“Not funny.” He said.

“Aw, come on, Harry! Ginny is not your mother, no matter how much they look alike! Or act.” She added, as an afterthought.

“Whatever.” He said, feeling like he wanted to crawl out of his skin and hide somewhere “I’m fleeing the country”

He stepped into the chimney as he said it, Hermione running after him, looking alarmed and shouting at him to wait as he threw the Floo Powder and said “R&D, Barcelona!”

The last thing he saw he was yanked upwards and the world started spinning was his friend half laughing, half consternated. He wondered briefly what she was trying to warn him about, and was hit with a sudden certainty: whatever it was, it was better than being married to his mother.


End file.
